


V-cards for V-day?

by Drapetomania



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asexual Stiles Stilinski, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, but also kinda same universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 19:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drapetomania/pseuds/Drapetomania
Summary: Stiles thinks about how they could be showering together right now if being naked together was a thing they do. Hell, they don't even have those crazy desperate make out moments where they're seconds away from tearing off each other's clothes. Stiles expected things to change when he got into a relationship. Then he expected things to progress as the relationship did. But here he is, finding himself completely indifferent to having sex with Derek Hale - or, even more so, he kind of doesn't want to have sex with Derek Hale.aka ace!Stiles





	V-cards for V-day?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icarusinflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/gifts).



> (I'm really bad with tags, I am so sorry!)
> 
> Anyway, this is is for the wonderful Le, who was so amazingly patient with me and gave me all the freedom I wanted with this. I've been wanting to write ace!Stiles for so long and the Fandom Cares event finally got me to do it! I hope I did the topic and the ship justice. The asexuality and panic attack is based on personal experience, I guess. Hope you enjoy!

# 

174.

 

Stiles drops his bat next to the rear of the jeep mercilessly. It's been of good service but now it’s covered in all kinds of stuff he doesn't want to think about. It's going to need some proper cleaning later on; until then, Roscoe is his only baby. He has half a mind to kick the bat for extra measure. His whole body hurts, and his clothes are messed up, one of his gloves ripped so his hand is sore and there is goo everywhere; even Roscoe's got some of that weird slimy substance smeared across the blue paint. Stiles grimaces, tearing his gaze away from the atrocity covering his beloved car. That's what you get when you have to fight goblins unprepared. They've gotten way too comfortable in resolving conflict with minimum effort.

 

"You know those extra padded layers we were talking about? Yeah, that might be a conversation we should pursue further," he says to himself as he pulls the damaged glove off and lets it drop next to the bat. He flexes his hand and winces as pain shoots up his arm. Off to his right ,  Scott is going on and on about how absolutely ruined his day is, which would be amusing if it weren't the umpteenth time he’s bringing it up today. He’s pretty sure the universe knows it’s Valentine’s Day by now.

 

"I told you that when you bought them." Derek appears next to Stiles just as fingers wrap around the wrist of his sore hand. One of the blisters has popped and bled a bit and Derek scrutinizes the damage. Stiles will never understand Derek's willingness to have his face so close to such a disgusting sight.

 

"It's not that bad. I use a metal bat now, remember? No splinters that can get infected and have my hand mutating to something twice its size," Stiles tells him. He might be exaggerating a little bit but hey, the pain had been real. Real enough to make him consider asking Derek to saw his hand off - just like Stiles had almost done with Derek's arm. Sweet memories.

 

This'll be healed in three days' time. Not that that stops Derek from being overprotective and sneakily trying to take the pain. Stiles sees the faint blackened veins even if Derek tries to tilt his hand out of sight. He slaps at Derek's arm with his free hand until he lets go.

 

“Hey! None of that, mister. Don't go breaking promises."

 

“I never promised I wouldn't take your pain."

 

“Yes, you did! We had this discussion again just 2 weeks ago, remember? I was scolding you just like this," Stiles waggles his finger in the air to emphasize his point, "and I made you promise! I made you say- you said..." His eyes narrow when he remembers Derek's exact wording and realizes that he managed to weasel his way out of it. "You ass."

 

Derek gives him a pointed look, all smug and not half as apologetic as he should be.

 

“You, Derek Hale, are one big buttface. You have a gorgeous face and a beautiful butt but you’re also a buttface, meaning you need to listen to me. I’m the man of the house, you know.” Stiles intends to remain stern. But when Derek dips his head in his familiar fashion to hide his smile he can’t help the outbreak of butterflies in his stomach. His own facial expression melts into a smile as Derek curls a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss his temple.

 

“And that’s another diversion tactic of yours, huh?” Stiles asks, nudgig him fondly. He strips his second glove.

 

“It’s quite effective,” Derek says with a shrug. He lets his hand run down Stiles’ back, as well as his side, and Stiles knows he’s checking for injuries, so he keeps still and doesn’t make a sound even when Derek hits a sore spot.

 

“I’m fine, jeez. Go check with the others,” Stiles shoos him off before the moment can get too intimate around the pack. Not that he’s not grateful. He knows Derek will be cleaning up his wounds later; it’s like some kind of after battle ritual, a bonding moment. Eventually ,  he will also let Derek take some of the pain simply because he gets to heal faster.

 

He can’t help himself watch Derek walk away, going from one pack member to the next, reaching out for each of them. Three years ago, Stiles would never have been able to predict just how tactile wolf packs were and now - well, he’s pretty sure there’s near constant contact between them all. Jackson has taken a liking to it, though he’d needed almost as much convincing as Derek. Stiles watches Isaac smile up at the alpha when Derek puts an arm around his shoulders. The beta leans into his side for a moment and nods as they talk.

 

174 days. Probably.

 

It’s Valentine’s Day and even Jackson and Lydia have romantic plans that they’re missing out on. Hell, Danny is single and he has plans. It’s only Derek and him who don’t. Usually, being the odd one out doesn’t matter to him. He’s been the weird kid all his life. And usually he doesn't care for a commercialized holiday. But this is Derek and him. As in, together. A relationship. Stiles has never done anything like this before and he’s worried. He can’t help it. Hours of reading up on theory couldn’t prepare him for this.

 

It’s been 174 days since the first kiss. That’s what counted as them being in a relationship, right? Or was it the three months before when they first held hands? The first hug that lasted longer than a minute? Stiles isn’t sure he can pinpoint the exact time they crossed the line from friends to something more. It is a pretty defining trait for their relationship in general, as the progress from strangers to friends had been just as murky.

 

Not that Stiles is complaining. Things are great. Couldn't really be better. Well, they could do without the  N emeton attracting all kinds of supernatural evil but in the end they always manage to deal with it. He has a part time job at the supermarket to help out with bills and splits the rest of his time researching to try to stop the  N emeton, working on his magic, and the pack.

 

Said pack is now coming up to him in turns for some good old fashioned scenting in quick form before they would all part ways. Erica plants a kiss on Stiles' cheek as she hugs him sideways, trapping his arms by his side.

 

"How's my Batman?" She's decidedly cheerful for someone with goblin guts smeared across her face - and hands. Hands that are now soiling his clothes.

 

Stiles whines.

 

"I'm just hoping this washes off because this is more disgusting than Jackson's lizard slobber," he says.

 

“I heard that, Stilinski!" Jackson called over. "It wasn't slobber."

 

“I had that crap all over my hands. It felt just as slimy."

 

"At least it made you shut up for once," Jackson mutters just loud enough for Stiles to hear. And then a quiet "ow," as Lydia elbows him before she comes over to join him and Erica.

 

"Sometimes I'd rather be paralyzed again than deal with him,"  Stiles jokingly tells her.

 

"Wouldn't we all?" Erica hums, turning to wink and stick her tongue out at Jackson.

 

"Are you hurt?" Lydia asks. Her hand finds Stiles' arm then, giving him a light squeeze. He smiles at her.

 

"I'm good," he assures the two of them, as well as Derek, who he knows has to be listening. "Got blisters," he just confesses, holding up his hand.

 

"Poor boo," Erica coos, nuzzling in under his jaw, finally letting him go when she's done scenting him. As soon as she does, Boyd is suddenly at his back, rubbing his shoulders.

 

It takes a while for them to part, until everyone is done with everyone and Derek has taken the wheel in the jeep. The drive home is rather silent, which is admittedly unusual for Stiles but he's kinda freaking out here. It's Valentine's Day after all and he has no concrete plan. They had kind of agreed on nothing special but...

 

He's thinking maybe to surprise Derek with some romantic sexy time. He's old enough after all and it being their first time would make it romantic, right? They've never talked about it though, never come close to doing it, and that thought makes him nervous. A healthy relationship requires a physical aspect, too. That's something they're missing.

 

Would flower petals and candles be too cheesy? He should've prepared something at least. He doesn't even have condoms. Someone wanting him still feels so unrealistic, especially someone wanting him back - and that someone being Derek... Though the werewolf does manage to make Stiles feel wanted and loved. And love, that- that's a strong word but he thinks this between them could be.

 

Yet, there's still the nonexistent sex aspect.

 

"What's wrong," Derek questions in that manner of his where he states rather than asks as he pulls into the parking lot by the loft. Somehow he makes it work.

 

Stiles sighs. Lying to Derek won't work and telling him the truth would just make things awkward.

 

"I'm tired," he says instead, which is not the issue but also true. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he turns to look over at Derek - torn sweater, messy scruff and all. Derek gazes at him for a short while, calculating and then deciding not to push it. He gives a small nod and squeezes Stiles' knee before exiting the car. Stiles follows suit.

 

"We'll shower, order in, and crash on the couch," Derek assures him.

 

“What are the chances of you actually killing me if I reverse that order?"

 

"Be happy I'm not making you undress right here... Your car is going to stink horrifically of goblins for weeks." Derek huffs.

 

Stiles lets out an indignant sound. "Don't listen to him, Roscoe, baby. Papa is gonna take care of you." He strokes the hood of the car as he throws a glare at Derek.

 

Derek just ushers him inside.

 

###

 

The shower gives Stiles time to think. He thinks about how they could be showering together right now if being naked together was a thing they do. Hell, they don't even have those crazy desperate make out moments where they're seconds away from tearing off each other's clothes. Stiles expected things to change when he got into a relationship. Then he expected things to progress as the relationship did. But here he is, finding himself completely indifferent to having sex with Derek Hale - or, even more so, he kind of doesn't want to have sex with Derek Hale.

 

Why? He can't say. It just freaks him out too much. He doesn't understand why people do it. He just doesn't... Get the point. Apparently it's the best feeling in the world, orgasming together with someone but ask him right now and Stiles could think of 100 better things to do than to have sex.

Then again, he reminds himself he's never had it so he can't say. He just has to give it a try. Especially if it's something Derek wants or expects out of the relationship. Stiles wants to give him everything.

 

That thought hits something inside Stiles' chest as he steps out of the shower and in front of the mirror. He wants to give Derek all of him; every thought, and every feeling, and every particle. He wants to give him all he has to offer, in the insane hope that he could be enough. This pale skin that burns within minutes in the sun, dotted with imperfections all over; these lanky arms, twigs, in comparison to Derek's; his upturned nose, like a piggy, as someone in elementary school had once said; his dull brown eyes and faint lips and uneventful buzzed hair. Stiles brushes a hand through it as he observes his appearance.

 

He doesn't feel like he has much to offer in any regard, but apparently Derek sees something worthwhile there - and Stiles is eternally grateful he does. Which he intends to show Derek. The ridiculousness of Valentine's Day be damned.

 

So Stiles dries off and does his hair, trying to look presentable despite having only sweatpants and an old T-shirt to change into. He's nervous throughout dinner, which they eat out of plastic takeout boxes, and he can see the ever so slight frown on Derek's face because of it. Still, Derek knows better than to press the issue or question the jokes and fake laughter Stiles presents.

It doesn't get easier. In fact, when Derek suggests they lie down in his bed rather than the couch, Stiles is sure his heart is going to beat out of his throat. His voice breaks, when he agrees with a "yeah," but he turns sharply and marches off to the bed before either of them can change their mind. This is going according to his plan after all. He wants to do this, wants to give Derek all of himself physically.

 

But he's shaky when he comes to a stop at the end of the bed and stares down at it. Every breath is a battle at this point and he's so close to losing it, even considers bolting and hiding in his own bed at home, in his childhood bedroom, under the blanket of safety.

 

“Stiles." Derek comes up behind him, close enough for him to feel his warmth and the waft of air from his breath against the back of his neck. Stiles tenses. Hands come to rest lightly on his hips as Derek's lips brush his skin. "Why don't you lie down?"

 

But Stiles can't answer. Nor can he move to comply. He's frozen. At the same time his whole being buzzes with anxiety and his brain screams in panic. And he's trying, he's trying so hard to convince himself he wants this-

 

"I don't want to!" It bursts out of Stiles and he flees Derek's proximity over to the side of the room. He gets a breath of relief but then just feels dejected as he realizes he can't do this. Derek's face also speaks of rejection and devastation and Stiles has to drop his gaze, shoulders slumping as he hugs an arm around himself.

 

Silence spreads between them, making the distance feel as wide and deep as the grand canyon. Stiles can feel Derek's gaze on him but how is he supposed to explain? He's not sure he understands himself. All he knows is there is something he's supposed to be feeling and wanting and doing, but he doesn't feel the need for it. He bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes start to burn.

 

"Okay..." He hears from Derek, the insecurity clear in his voice. "Do you-..." A sigh. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

 

But Stiles still doesn't know what to say. "I... I can't- " he manages feebly, thinking: I can't do it, I can't give you what you want, I can't be what you need. The urge to cry only grows. They had been doing so well and Stiles couldn't believe his luck - he is dating Derek freaking Hale! - but of course he has to go and ruin it.

 

Maybe he's broken. Maybe asexual is a term weird, broken people use to feel a little better about themselves. Maybe he'll never be anything close to normal and will never get his happily ever after with someone- with Derek. He can't imagine ever wanting somebody else anymore. He knows he has a long life ahead of him but just like his dad hasn't yet dated again after his mother, that's how he feels about one sourwolf.

 

"Stiles," Derek tries again, and Stiles can hear it in his voice; the desperation and longing, the sadness. He knows Derek wants to be able to help him but the older male doesn't dare move closer again. Stiles knows how important consent is to him but he can't give it to him now, not for the simplest touch and especially not anything more.

 

Stiles blinks furiously, trying to will the tears away because hell, crying certainly isn't going to fix anything. Even his tears are stubborn enough to be defiant though, a droplet starting to crawl down his cheek. He still can't move.

 

Derek doesn't either.

 

"Did I... do something?" He asks quietly.

 

Stiles takes particular interest in the air in front of him, around him. He's not sure if he's making it up or if it's actually getting more stuffy by the second. He watches dust particles float around unconcerned and wonders how many he's breathed in and where they go once they enter his body. Funny how the body knows exactly what it needs to do all on its own sometimes, like filtering the air it breaths and breathing in itself, until it comes to a point where it just doesn't.

 

Stiles knows he'll work himself into a panic attack if he doesn't shake himself out of it right now. So he quickly makes himself shake his head.

 

“No," he finally answers, while turning away to the far corner, where he sinks down against the two walls. "No. No, you didn't. Absolutely not."

 

Holding his hands up, he counts his fingers out of habit, trying to regulate his breathing according to the numbers. He can't tell if they're shaking or not. There's a weight on his chest that he can't rid himself of.

 

Derek still hasn't moved from the other side of the room, looking more helpless than Stiles has ever seen him.

 

Stiles runs a hand through his hair, pressing it down against his scalp as he lays his head back. He lets his eyes close for a second and continues to focus on his breathing.

 

“Okay, sorry, I just- This happens...," he waves a hand through the air, "just happens sometimes. Totally on me. All me. You did nothing. I-"

 

"Keep breathing," Derek interrupts him. "Can I...?" He hesitantly walks forward and motions next to Stiles. After Stiles invites him with a sweep of his arm, he lowers himself to the floor a generous arm's length away. He's barefoot and in sweatpants himself. That's about as far as Stiles dares look up before he looks back to his knees.

 

It feels like forever before he can feel his thoughts slowly wandering away from reminding himself to breathe in and out, in and out. Eventually he relaxes out of the uncomfortable position he's in, stretching his legs out in front of him.

 

“Sorry."

 

“Stiles."

 

And Stiles knows that tone, knows what Derek is going for but he can't help but feel terrible for ruining the evening. He sighs.

 

"This is not how I planned the evening to go," he mumbles.

 

"It's been a long day," Derek justifies and Stiles wants to laugh, because IF ONLY it were just that, but he feels too exhausted and too much like a failure.

 

"Yeah, no. This is just- I wanted..." But he can't finish the sentence, just like he couldn't go through with sex.

 

"You haven't had one in a while, have you?" Derek asks.

 

“Like... An attack?"

 

“Yeah."

 

Stiles shakes his head, shrugging. "No. Not really. I used to have them all the time when my mom died but lately-," what's lately? what changed? Is it- ",lately, I'm happy. Relaxed. Whatever."

Stiles sees Derek nod curtly out of the corner of his eye. But when he looks over he sees his creased forehead.

 

"What happened now?" There's still some hesitation in his voice, like he has to step carefully and risk Stiles breaking. Which, after what just happened is not even an improbable thought. Stiles hates feeling so fragile.

 

It's too unnerving to hold Derek's gaze and admit what's going on so Stiles ends up tracing the edges of the floor boards in front of him with his gaze. How is he supposed to tell Derek? It could ruin everything. Derek could just break up with him. And Stiles wouldn't blame him for it. He's lucky enough to have had Derek until now. Is telling the truth worth the risk? He could stall and hold onto this just a little bit longer. But wouldn't that be unfair on Derek? If Stiles can't be what Derek needs, he might as well give up now.

 

"I wanted..." Stiles motions at the bed helplessly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He rubs a hand over his face. "Well, I actually didn't want to but I was going to- I thought... You know we never... Like... Did it," he mumbles.

 

"Did what?" Derek asks, like he wants Stiles to spell it out.

 

Stiles flails a little, aware he's just going to have to get over himself and say it. He sighs, the dread once again rising in his chest. "Have sex."

 

"Oh," he hears breathily from Derek, so surprised one could almost believe he had never thought about it himself.

 

"Yeah, we never did it. We've never- I mean, it's something missing in our- between us, right? Whatever this is and I... I don't really want to." He feels so small.

 

"Stiles," Derek says after a moment, and he sounds absolutely horrified. 

 

Stiles closes his eyes.

 

"Stiles, I would never." Stiles isn't sure if he's ever heard Derek sound so serious in his life. "I would never," he repeats, "make you do something you don't want to. I would never do anything you're uncomfortable with. If you don't want sex, we're not going to have sex. It's out of the question. It's-"

 

When Stiles opens his eyes to the sound of Derek sounding desperate, he finds the sight of Derek's glassy eyes, a look of guilt on his face.

 

"I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel like you owe me to sleep with me. That’s the last thing I ever wanted you to feel. After Kate, I swore to myself-”

 

Stiles quickly interrupts him, finally turning to Derek and scooting a little closer. “You are nothing like her,” he tells him firmly. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just… me. I’m- I think I’m asexual. As in, I don’t like sex. Or well, the thought of it. I know I make a lot of jokes about it because I want to try to fit in. It makes me feel like- I can’t do this right. I can’t be what you need.” At the end, he drops his gaze again, feeling the shame burn up, along with the unhappiness.

 

Derek doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Stiles’ fear of rejection only grows. He’s about to open his mouth to say something when Derek speaks.

 

“You are perfect to me just the way you are, Stiles,” he says softly. Stiles looks up, finding Derek’s gentle gaze on him. “Relationships don’t necessarily need sex. I don’t need it. I haven’t really enjoyed it in the past so I don’t mind at all.”

 

Stiles can hardly believe what’s happening. The anxiety is still not letting go of him yet, although hope wavers inside him.

 

Derek continues, “I love just being with you. I love getting to hold your hand and kiss you, having dinner with you, laughing with you and cuddling up to watch old movies with you. You are all I need. Nothing more.”

 

It’s like climax of every rom-com movie, the insanely cheesy, heart-wrenching moment and Stiles wants to hate on the both of them for it a little, but he can’t help the way it lifts all worries from his chest and fills him with a warmth in the way that only Derek’s hugs can. He’s getting teary-eyed himself now, and he takes the hand Derek is holding out so he can give it a squeeze.

 

“So, we are in relationship then?” he asks carefully. It’s weird how Derek makes him lose a sense for words somehow, unable to voice the feelings storming in his chest, when it’s all he really wants to do, make Derek feel the love he has for him.

 

“Uh, yes? Or did you not-”

 

“Okay good, because you are the best boyfriend ever, like The Best. In the world, in the universe. And I…” his heart thuds in his chest, “I love you.”

 

The smile that appears on Derek’s face is gentle and reaches his eyes in joyous wonder. He pulls Stiles over to himself to place a sweet kiss on his lips, his free hand cupping Stiles’ cheek.

 

“I love you, too,” he breaths softly.

 

“And you really don’t mind-” Stiles starts.

 

“I really don’t mind,” Derek insists, rubbing his thumb against Stiles’ jaw. “In fact, what I had wanted to suggest was just some cuddling, in a way. I wanted to help you relax.”

 

Stiles’ smile widens. He feels a little bit foolish now, having had a panic attack over something that didn’t turn out to be an issue at all but the feeling of comfort and happiness that comes from Derek’s presence and touch overpower any embarrassment that he has left.

 

“Also, I actually hid something under the bed for us. For Valentine’s Day,” Derek adds sheepishly. 

 

“You’re 100% a romantic, Derek Hale. You can fight me all you want on it but the truth remains as it is.”

 

Derek grunts but doesn’t argue and Stiles revels in it. He’s grateful for all the little things Derek does to show his affection after all. What’s a relationship without a little romance? He’s not expecting much as he crawls the few steps over to the bed, while Derek goes to sit on it, and starts rummaging underneath it to find a box.

 

Pulling it out, he flips the top open to reveal a bunch of brownies.

 

“You hid these under the bed?” is the first thing that comes out of Stiles, quirking an eyebrow at Derek - a habit he undoubtedly picked up from the werewolf. 

 

“You would have found them anywhere else!” Derek protests. “Besides it came perfectly in handy now.”

 

“You will give me cavities. Literally and figuratively,” Stiles says with a grin. He takes the box with him as he climbs onto the bed to settle back against the pillows. Derek immediately joins his side, easily wrapping an arm around Stiles and maneuvering him back against his chest instead. 

 

The brownies are nothing but pure, crispy but gooey, chocolatey heaven and Stiles feels like he’s on cloud nine. The day has been a roller coaster ride in many ways but Stiles wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, when he gets to curl up with Derek at the end of the day, eating brownies in bed and just talking and laughing together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> I appreciate any and all criticism and comments~
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on tumblr :)](thinminthale.tumblr.com)


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